Barely Missing Everything

On the night of our ninth wedding anniversary, my husband—Damian Grant, the man who ruled the mafia by day and once ruled my heart by night—did not bring me roses. He gave the bouquet that should have been mine to Serena Lane, his personal assistant. Beneath the chandelier where we once danced on our wedding night, he turned to me with that same cold charm he once used to whisper sweet nothings in my ear. “She's pregnant.” Finally, everything fell into place. “She's a picky eater. From today onward, you’ll cook three meals a day for her. And no repeats. “She’s sensitive and hates sleeping alone, so you’ll need to move your things into the guest room.” The room fell silent. I did not raise my voice, nor did I shed a single tear. I simply picked up my packed suitcase and walked to the door. The butler tried to stop me, but Damian did not even blink. “She’ll come back.” He lazily swirled the wine in his glass. “She’ll come back crying and begging within three days.” Our guests burst out laughing. They placed a million-dollar bet right in front of me. They were betting on whether I would be back before the night was over, begging Damian to let me back in like a pathetic stray dog with my tail between my legs. However, they did not know I had already received the family heirloom from my real father. I booked my flight to get far, far away from everyone I used to know. This time, I really left.

On the Memorial Day weekend, Mason Hayes, the student my wife, Abigail Sullivan, had been sponsoring, insisted on riding with me back to his hometown. My car was small, the drive was long, and the trunk was already packed. There was no way to fit another adult, so I turned him down as politely as I could. That night, Abigail came home and stayed quiet for a long time before finally saying, "He ended up walking along the highway. His feet were torn up." I frowned, trying to make sense of it. "It's a holiday weekend. There are Ubers everywhere. He could've booked one in minutes." She nodded softly, the same gentle expression she always wore, and poured me a glass of water. I drank it. The next thing I knew, everything went black. When I opened my eyes again, I was standing under a brutal midday sun on an empty stretch of highway. Abigail leaned into Mason's shoulder, holding her phone up as she livestreamed. There was a faint smile on her lips, but there was nothing warm about it. "You said getting around was easy, right? Why don't you try walking home yourself?" The livestream was packed. The chat flooded with messages, people placing bets on how far I would make it. I looked straight into the camera, ran my tongue over my cracked lips, and said, "Done enjoying the show? Now come and pick me up."

On the 99th time we fall into a frosty standoff, my girlfriend, Christina Davenport, does something she's never done before—she caves and breaks the silence. But she only does so to give me a way out because she's about to leave on a month-long business trip with her longtime crush, Adrian Blackwell. This time, I, Jeremiah Kane, don't argue with her. Instead, I make her breakfast and see her off with a smile. Christina pinches my cheek and smiles at me as if I were a puppy. "You're being such a good boy today. When I get back, I'll say yes to your marriage proposal, okay?" What she doesn't know, however, is that the people who are truly intending to leave don't make a scene. A month later, she returns home glowing with happiness, only to find a completely empty apartment. That's when the panic sets in.

In the quiet, watchful town of Willow Creek, nineteen-year-old Rihanna has learned that loving too loudly is dangerous. Once betrayed by her first love and turned into a subject of gossip, she has spent a year and a half building walls around her heart. She is vibrant, outspoken, and endlessly warm—but in a town that mistakes kindness for weakness, she is labeled as someone unworthy of being chosen. When a pandemic lockdown brings an unexpected message from Dennis, the wealthy boy she has admired from afar her entire life, Rihanna allows herself to hope again. What begins as playful late-night conversations and secret meetings soon grows into something far more fragile and intense. Dennis sees her in ways no one ever has—but he is also bound by fear, reputation, and a need for control that clashes with Rihanna’s free-spirited nature. As their connection deepens, Rihanna is forced into her own survival game: choosing between shrinking herself to fit someone else’s expectations or standing fully in who she is, even if it means losing love. When Dennis offers her only something casual, she must confront the truth about what she deserves—and whether she is willing to risk her heart again. *Almost Yours* is a story about emotional survival, self-worth, and the courage it takes to grow beyond heartbreak. In a world that demands women make themselves smaller to be loved, Rihanna’s journey asks a powerful question: when love returns, will she choose it—or herself?

Melissa Jones, the so-called 'fake' heiress, lost her memory trying to save me. Her memory was stuck at the time she was 18, back when our lives had not yet been set right. Everyone told me to be the bigger person. In the new family portrait, I was the only one missing. My biological mother tried to comfort me, "Shirley, be reasonable. It's just a photo. We will make it up to you later." I applied for the vice president position year after year, only to be rejected five times in a row. Then, when Melissa said she wanted to learn the business, my brother, Maverick Jones, approved it immediately. Afterward, he turned to me and said, "You should give way to Melissa. You're the reason she lost her memory. I'm helping you make up for it." When I went into labor and needed my husband, Charles Smith, to sign the consent for a C-section, he was one floor above me, accompanying Melissa to a follow-up appointment. I called him seven times. He declined every call. In the end, my seven-month-old baby suffocated. Even in a wheelchair, I went to demand an explanation. However, outside the hospital room, I heard Melissa crying. "Back then, you all agreed I should pretend to have amnesia. I'll never randomly decline calls for Charles again. I just want to stay by your side for three more months." There was a moment of silence. Then, Charles and the others agreed. At that moment, I was not angry. I just felt something inside me turn completely empty. I turned around and accepted my adoptive parents' request to return to Nebula City. This time, I would give these people what they wanted.

I was born naturally dazed, living every day as if I were tipsy. So when Adrian Blake forced his way into my life, I thought he was only playing with me. Every time I failed to run away and he caught me again, I gave him a thumbs-up. "Your hide-and-seek skills are improving fast. I only hid for half an hour and you already found me." And just like that, I muddled through three years of a game where I ran and he chased. Until today. I found out I was pregnant after nausea and vomiting, and I took the report home, wanting to tell Adrian Blake, whom doctors had diagnosed as infertile. But then he got into a car accident and lost his memory. His childhood sweetheart cried as she blamed me. "If he had not rushed back to celebrate your birthday, none of this would have happened." "He has forgotten you completely. I am begging you. Stop clinging to him, okay?" I slowly walked away for a while, my lower belly aching faintly. I had the feeling I had forgotten something. Forget it. I would think of it when I remembered.